


Until Orange

by themoonandmargot



Series: Until Orange [1]
Category: Smosh
Genre: Boze Knows All, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Some Cursing, The Epitome of Happy Endings, Too Much Cheese?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 20:42:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15081332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themoonandmargot/pseuds/themoonandmargot
Summary: Last night, Boze told Damien that Shayne likes him. Walking into work this morning, Damien tells himself that Boze is probably full of shit.Probably.





	Until Orange

“Mornin’.”

Damien looks up from his phone to see Shayne pushing open the office door with Starbucks in each hand. For a moment, Damien can see through the blue haze of fatigue and bring himself to smile. “Ooh, could one of those possibly be for me?”

Shayne grins back. “You bet. And unless my memory is bad, it’s the way you like it, too.” He hands one to Damien before plopping beside him on the couch.

Damien takes the first sip of his drink and exhales in satisfaction. Turns out Shayne did remember how he likes his coffee. “You know, I thought I could’ve waited for the group order later today, but I’m only realizing now that I’m weak and my body needs caffeine in the morning no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise,” Damien explains, a fresh animation to his voice. “Oh yeah, thanks by the way.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Shayne laughs, eyes crinkling—and it’s probably just the coffee, but Damien swears he can feel the warmth spread throughout him. He hides his smile behind his drink until Shayne coughs and continues. “I, uh… I actually wanted to grab you a coffee because I heard last night was a rough one for you,” he murmurs along the lip of his cup.

And like that, the warmth drains from Damien and leaves behind a pallid shell. He remembers dinner the night before in Boze and his apartment; he remembers the tense talk, the words that she had told him yet he was too stubborn to believe.

 _He likes you, dude_ , he hears her say over the running faucet. _He likes you, and if you don’t act soon, you might just miss out on being the happiest you could ever be._

“Oh,” Damien drawls, fire behind his eyes. “What’d she tell you?”

Mid-sip, Shayne tenses and swallows. “Boze, you mean? I just got a text that, I dunno, you probably wouldn’t be feeling like yourself today.” A moment passes, then Shayne taps on his cup in thought. “Looks like maybe she was right?”

Damien feels Shayne’s eyes on him, though he tries not to acknowledge it. He snickers. “Yeah, maybe.”

Minutes tick by as they hear more and more people shuffle into the grey of the office. They listen to the muted voices through the wall, and between sips, they recall the names to which the voices belong. It becomes another one of their games, one that distracts them from the quiet and their empty coffee cups.

The voices eventually tangle and fuse, making it impossible to distinguish any single one, and it isn’t until Damien shivers in the chill of the office that he realizes they’ve both fallen silent. “I wonder where all the SG guys are,” he comments.

The serenity of their morning carries on for only a few more seconds before Shayne throws himself across the couch. He lets out a grating groan in the relative silence of the room.

“ _Urrrrrrggghhhhh._ This sucks.”

Standing to throw away his cup, Damien chuckles. “What, waiting here?”

“No.” Shayne waits for Damien to return to his seat, then casts his glance sideways. “It’s just, I mean… I’m your best friend and you’re not even gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks.

A pang of guilt strikes Damien’s chest. “It doesn’t concern you, dude,” he lies, sitting up straighter.

“I don’t care if it does. I mean, I do, but I wanna know even if it doesn’t concern me,” Shayne explains. He shifts his legs so that they lay across his friend’s lap, testing if Damien’s too stuck in his own head to react. When he does nothing in response, Shayne slides his legs off and sits up. “I could punch you, you know. In fact, I will if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

A smirk slips onto Damien’s lips. “Well, go ahead and sock me in the face. I can take you anyway.” He turns to eyeball Shayne. “No, really, I’ve been working out.”

Shayne giggles softly. “I know you have.” He pauses and cocks his head. “Maybe a swift kick to the shin.”

“No luck, my shins are made of steel.”

“Mm. A karate chop to the belly button?”

“Strange in theory, and almost undoubtedly ineffective.”

“...I could titty-twist you.”

Damien snorts and leans back, finally at ease. “I think you oughta rethink your approach here.”

Shayne chews on his lip, letting the room grow quiet. He knows nothing of last night, but he recognizes its weight when his eyes settle on Damien—sleepy, smiling, _sad_. It’s a type of sad that Damien thinks not even Shayne can fix. The thought leaves a bad taste in Shayne’s mouth.

But deep inside, something whispers to him that it doesn't have to be like this, that no matter how high a wall Damien builds, there will always be a way for Shayne to climb over it. Shayne knows it can’t be too difficult to draw Damien away from whatever’s nipping at his heels. They need something new... or maybe just something unexpected.

_Rethink your approach, rethink your approach…_

“I could kiss you right now,” Shayne blurts. Damien’s expression falls into something between disbelief and confusion, and just the right amount of adrenaline seeps into Shayne’s bones for him to quickly add, “That’s as serious a threat I can think of.”

Damien feels his stomach flip. When he looks over to find Shayne’s face closer than ever, he wants so badly to ease the tension between them— _that was a crappy joke, man_ —except now he’s not sure if Shayne is joking.

 _No, he has to be_ , Damien thinks as he stares at the goofy, embarrassed grin on Shayne’s face. Nevertheless Damien almost considers kissing him, just to show that he’s not chicken, to prove that he’s not afraid to take up the challenge. That’s the only way Damien would kiss him, just to get that dumb smile off Shayne’s face.

But then Damien looks at Shayne a bit longer and thinks maybe, that’s just the face of someone he wants to kiss.

“Then do it.”

Damien regrets saying it the instant Shayne’s smile vanishes. Of course he’s not going to kiss his best friend. Damien hates how he feels when Shayne’s eyes flutter to meet his, hates the hope that bubbles in his chest when he senses their proximity. Damien feels the pink rush to his face and hears his heart pounding in his ears and sees Shayne leaning in and–

Oh. _Oh._ So that’s what kissing a boy is like.

Except it’s over before they know it, and Damien doesn’t spend any time to process it before resting his hand on Shayne’s jaw and pulling him in for another one. Damien feels Shayne melt against him, feels the hand sliding onto his waist and pulling him closer.

It’s not a new sensation, whatever it is that makes Damien sigh and smile into the kiss. They’ve felt it millions of times before—in tiny touches, in smiles shared across crowded rooms. Yet never have they felt this sort of warmth together, the type that tickles the back of their necks and tingles through the tips of their fingers. That’s different. That’s something they’re both eager to get used to. And they nearly get lost in it, until they hear the office door open.

“Oh-!” _Shit, shit, shit!_ They break away at the sound of a voice that would’ve been indistinguishable had it not been paired with the leathery shine of a tall, black combat boot.

Their heads are still spinning when they lean back and look at each other. They study their bodies, still the same as before but also changed. It requires all their strength to tear their eyes away from each other and take on the conversation waiting beyond the door.

“Boze,” Damien heaves, quirking a brow in Shayne’s direction. “Come in.” A second passes before they watch the door creak open to reveal Boze, beaming from cheek to cheek.

“Hey, guys,” she greets, cloyingly sweet.

“Hey, Boze,” they say in unison. There’s a nervous edge to both of their voices, but they recognize something else in the atmosphere, too. _Relief._

She steps in, closing the door behind her, then slinks to her desk. “What a _morning_ it has been, huh? It’s just… it’s, uh… something, really.”

“Boze,” Shayne says.

She drops into her chair and swivels towards her computer. “Yeah, it’s been wild! Walking in today, being with my pals fresh and early in the day. Weird stuff, the things I’ve encountered…”

Damien remembers that he’s gripping Shayne’s arm when he instinctively squeezes it. They share a look of unspoken conference, then return their attention back to Boze. “We know you saw us kissing,” Damien says, hushed.

Boze’s fingers stutter along her keyboard. She exhales and leans back in her chair. “Is that what you want me to believe?” she asks, staring at the loading screen before her. “Because if you want me to pretend that I didn’t see what I saw, then I can do that for you.”

Damien blinks, confused, then breaks into a grin. “Always a ride or die, Boze. No, you don’t have to pretend you didn’t see us kissing,” he says. At an almost alarming speed, Boze whips around to face them.

“Oh, thank God. I don’t think there’s any way I can forget the sight of y’all making out in the office,” she mutters, making the two smile and blush. Observing them in awe, Boze tucks her knees under her chin and asks, “So, are you guys, like, a thing now?”

The thought makes Shayne’s hand twitch in Damien’s grasp. Their eyes meet and try to search each other's face for any easy agreement, but alas, none found. This requires talking.

“A thing,” Shayne echoes, dumbstruck. He smiles, eyes creasing in the most hopeful of ways. “Are we a thing, Damien?”

Damien’s smile is just as soft, just as giddy. “I don’t know, Shayne. Do you want us to be a thing?” Teasing, he leans into Shayne’s space and notes the way Shayne’s eyes follow him.

“I want to kiss you again, maybe, if that counts for anything,” he replies, and now it’s Boze’s turn to react.

“ _Je_ -sus. Y’all are so cute that it’s reminding me how lonely I am,” she says.

Damien looks her way and remembers last night—how frustrated they were, how sincerely concerned Boze was about him, about Shayne. He’s certain they wouldn’t be sitting here in this position had it not been for her stressful yet admittedly necessary intervention.

Damien wants to thank her a million times over when he calls her name. However, Boze meets his gaze with a smirk, and Damien figures she already knows exactly what he's thinking. She always has.

“You know what?” she announces, standing up from her desk. “I think I remember seeing some bomb-ass donuts in the break room and now they’re calling my name. If y’all need me, I’ll be there, but if not, don’t let me get in your way.” She strides to the door, then stops before turning the handle. “This is gonna sound cheesy as fuck,” she says, pivoting on her heel, “but I’m really, really happy for you guys. I seriously am.”

The three of them bask in mutual bliss until Boze turns the handle of the door and steps out. With the room empty save for he and Shayne, Damien looks around and gains a newfound appreciation for his surroundings. This is where he kissed his best friend for the first time; this is where everything changed.

Shayne breaks the silence by dropping his head onto Damien’s shoulder. “Do you want to grab a donut before officially starting the day?” he asks.

Damien pauses. Donuts do sound good right now. But then in his head emerges the corniest line that he’s sure Shayne would hate. “Nah, I’ve got all the sugar I need right here,” he goads, smiling widely.

“...Shut the fuck up,” Shayne hisses before giggling along with Damien.

Content, Damien sighs. “So I guess we’re a thing now,” he says, barely comprehending his own words. Lacing their fingers together, sitting this close, being so intimate this intentionally—it’s a foreign feeling for the both of them. Despite this, Shayne captures the sentiment perfectly.

“Guess so,” he says. “And nothing’s ever felt more right.”

They stay there, quiet, though it’s not long until sunlight floods the room and washes the walls in orange. Bright, vibrant, optimistic orange. How wild, to think it only took until orange for everything to change. How terrifying, to think they have yet to meet the rest of the day and all the tomorrows. But how extraordinary, to think they made it right here, right now, in each other’s arms.

Damien smiles, warm as ever. He’ll have to tell Boze she told him so later.

**Author's Note:**

> _"So what really happened last night?" Shayne asks later, donut in hand._
> 
> _Damien snorts. "Funny you should ask."_


End file.
